


Fear

by Jinmukang



Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Hallucinations, Panic Attacks, Restraints, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Whumptober 2020, no.16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinmukang/pseuds/Jinmukang
Summary: Bruce and Dick just barely manage to stop Scarecrow's plans for the night, but not before Dick gets hit with the newest batch of fear toxin.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946413
Comments: 32
Kudos: 221
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Fear

**Author's Note:**

> woo! welcome! onto prompt 16!

"Nightwing, report."

Bruce says it more heartlessly than he means to. Here he is, dragging his eldest child through the grimy streets of the Theater District, kicking up abandoned, soggy pieces of litter as they stumble inch by inch towards the Batmobile, and he asks his barely lucid son to report as he hangs around Bruce's shoulder by a limp arm. 

And maybe it's just the quote unquote  _ emotional _ constipation in him. Maybe whenever he sees any of his children this out of commission, something inside of him subconsciously crawls away to hide. Turn his face. Harden every single one of his outer layers until the sight of pain in his children's faces just doesn't bother him as much as it probably should. 

It does bother him. He just can't ever bring himself to show it while they're still in the heat of the moment. 

"Chum," he repeats when Dick simply lets out a little mewl. "Can you make it back to the cave?" 

Dick shakes his head against Bruce's shoulder, pain wrinkling the skin at the corners of his wandering eyes. Bruce noted Dick's been looking slightly off and to the left for the past five minutes. Bruce wishes he could see what Dick sees right now, tell him whatever he's seeing over there isn't real and it's all Crane's fear toxin, but he knows better. He's worked with plenty of victims who hallucinate enough times to know the worst thing you could do was ask them about the sights and sounds they were experiencing. Whether it's illusions caused by drugs or a mentally ill patient in Arkham, asking them to verbalize and explain was just as good as making it a reality for them. 

Bringing it out of their heads and into the real world. 

Judging by how Dick's still managing to get his legs to work alongside Bruce as they walk a little further, the delusions he's seeing must not be fully effecting him. 

"B- I…" Dick swallows and shakes his head again. "It's bad this- this time. I- I don't know if… if I can…"

He cuts off with a groan and Bruce drags them forward ever faster, wincing at the strain of the movement added with Dick's extra weight bearing down upon his wounded calf, sliced open by Scarecrow's scythe not ten minutes ago. 

Bruce has already administered the antidote into Dick's bloodstream, but it seems Crane has altered his formula once again. The most it's doing is slowing down the effects, but Bruce knows that sooner or later Dick will be completely lost to his nightmares, and Bruce will be helpless to do anything but work as fast as he can to create an antidote. 

"Just hold on, chum, just one more street and we'll be in the car, then we can figure all of this out."

Curse Crane for being around long enough to know that Bruce's most important tricks and tricks are within his utility belt. He got a lucky swipe at his hips during the heat of their now finished battle and broke a lot of the wiring he has within the device. The button to summon the Batmobile was broken, and seeing as Alfred was currently out of the country and most of his kids off doing their own things, he couldn't have anyone manually drive the Batmobile towards them. 

He's just glad Damian went with Alfred to England. The lad needed a trip out, and Alfred was happy to suggest bringing him along. Because, while that might mean there's no one to help Bruce while Dick is dosed up on fear toxin like this, it also means Damian won't have to see his eldest brother like this. 

"Br's," Dick mumbles beside him as the place where Bruce parked the Batmobile comes into sight. 

"Yes, chum?" 

"I can't… I- think-"

Suddenly, Dick jerks away from Bruce's grasp, and thanks to the blood-loss in his leg, he isn't quite strong enough to stop Dick from slipping from his hands and collapsing onto the floor, whining and trying to get back to his feet with the strength of a newborn fawn. 

Bruce rushes forward. "Nightwing!" 

He tries to grab at Dick and lift him back up, but Dick yelps and flinches violently like he's been shocked. "No please!" 

And… shit. The fear toxin is finally taking full effect. Of course it's had to happen now, when they were so close to the Batmobile. Within a millisecond, Bruce tries to determine what kind of procedures he'll have to enact to get Dick into the car and back to the cave. Does Dick simply need space? Or does he need to be restrained?

He should plan on restraints. Always plan for every outcome, but prepare for the worst case scenario first. It's a lesson he's forced himself to learn over the years, one he's taught to every child who he's ever mentored and called his own. 

"Please no, please stop-" Dick continues to whimper, slowly stumbling to his feet and backing up like he's one blow of the wind from falling over. "I can't-"

And Bruce moves. As much as seeing Dick like this hurts him, he also knows the longer the toxin is in Dick's system, the more potential damage it could do. It will be better in the long run to ignore Dick's internal struggles and get him to the cave than it would be to not startle him. 

Dick tries to fight him, his breaths coming out in panicked bursts as Bruce grabs onto his upper body and pins him to his chest. Dick immediately begins to struggle, his back to Bruce's chest and his arms trapped between Bruce's restraining ones. He yells out, screams to be let go and left alone, but Bruce grinds his teeth and manhandles Dick towards the car, forcing himself to ignore the pulsing pain in his leg or how he'll definitely have to stitch it himself later.

He gets to the car thankfully without anyone coming out to see what the ruckus was about. People scream all the time in the Theater District despite Bruce's constant attempts to lower the rate of crime. Where in normal cities, people would probably at least look out their windows to see what commotion was about, in Crime Alley it was smarter to keep the blinds shut and the doors locked. 

Shoving Dick into the car takes tremendous effort. Dick's full on panicking now, trying to hit and kick at Bruce with everything he's got, and by the time Bruce has him locked into the back of the Batmobile where the chair with restraints reside, he's sporting a number of new bruises along his chest and jaw.

He shuts the foot and leans against the car for a moment, catching his breath as a wave of dizziness crashes into him. Dick's writhing within the restraints of the chair, screaming and kicking, clawing at any straps his fingers can barely grasp at. 

Bruce sucks in a breath of air, hardens the shell around him, then limps towards the driver's seat. 

By the time he skids to a stop within the cave, Dick's gone from screaming and struggling to crying and heartbreaking attempts to simply curl up. Multiple times during the ride, he's called for Bruce to save him. To swoop in and make the pain stop. Multiple times he apologizes for not being good enough. For always failing. 

Bruce wants nothing more than to tell him that he's here, and that he'll fix this, and that he considers the man Dick Grayson is today to be one of his greatest achievements. Never a disappointment. 

But his vision is woozy and he feels nauseous thanks to the blood-loss, and he knows Dick will be deaf to any reassurances until he has an antitoxin in his system. There is no point in wasting time. Not when he could be spending it curing Dick's fears and then making sure he doesn't bleed to death. 

Because he's pretty sure if he bleeds to death while Alfred is in England, the man will bring Bruce back to life just so he can kill him himself. 

He slams his fingers on the button that opens all the doors of the Batmobile and then stumbles out. He leaves Dick restrained to the chair for the moment while he practically trips over his own feet towards the lab where he grabs a roll of gauze and ties it around his leg. He then grabs the nearest clean syringe, turns, and prepares himself for what he's about to do. 

He takes off his cowl, in hopes a familiar face will make the process easier, but Dick still sobs and screams and begs as Bruce shoves the needle into his arm anyway. 

"I'm sorry, please, it hurts- it hurts-"

He forces himself to tune it out, rushing back towards the lab as quickly as his hastily bandaged wound would allow and begins to analyze Dick's blood. Dick doesn't stop whimpering for the entire process, and by the time Bruce has an antitoxin ready, he's practically numb.

Numb to Dick's constant sobbing and expressions of fear. Numb to his own body. 

Everything spins as he walks like a dead man towards his son one final time. As much as it initially pained him to do, he's glad now that he has Dick restrained like this. He's so weak that he knows he wouldn't be able to fight off Dick's writhing if he were free.

He presses the needle into Dick's neck, ignoring how his cries and shouts become louder, his struggling becoming more violent. However, there's nothing Dick can do to fend off Bruce like this, and soon the entirety of the antitoxin in running its course through his system.

Both Bruce and Dick collapse, Bruce because of the overtaking dizziness, Dick because the fear toxin is now in process of being nullified. 

Dick's still hallucinating, Bruce can tell, but they're not as violent as what they were just a few minutes ago. Bruce can't really look and see through, he can barely keep his eyes open. It's all he can do to lean against the car and rest his head near where Dick's thighs sit on the chair. He can feel Dick twitching every so often, but the twitches become smaller the more time goes by. 

Eventually, Dick's whimpers become nothing more than tired sighs, and Bruce finally lets his eyes close. 

-o-o-o-o-

Bruce wakes up what must be hours later. He knows this, because the chittering in the cave above him is louder, a sign that it's morning and the bats are slowly beginning to return home.

He's laying on his back on top of one of the metal lab tables, various beakers and tools pushed to the side to make room for his body. His entire leg is numb, but not in the way that meant blood-loss and infection, but one that suggested a numbing agent. He groans and gets his elbows under him, wincing at the strain in his spine from the hard surface of the table. There's a tug in his wrist that belongs to an IV hooked to a bag of blood, and when he looks down he can see his leg has been expertly wrapped. Various medical tools lay forgotten by his legs along with a bloodied needle and a spool of medical thread. 

Then, his eyes catch onto a very pale, but peacefully resting Dick Grayson. Bruce has no idea how he escaped the restraints of the Batmobile, dragged Bruce all the way here, and patched up his leg, but judging by how he's absolutely knocked out cold, curled up in a very uncomfortable metal chair, it took a lot of strain for him to pull off. 

Bruce is just glad that Dick managed to escape the restraints _after_ the antitoxin was administered, and not before. 

Slowly, Bruce slides the IV out from his arm and climbs off the table, cautious of his bad leg. Dick doesn't move as Bruce approaches, which is probably for the best. Bruce carefully brushes his hand against Dick's cheek, and finally lets himself feel something when Dick hums sleepily and leans into his touch. 

Dick is twenty-seven years old. But Bruce knows that Dick could grow to be forty, or eighty, or older, and Bruce would always see him as that little eight year old who first somersaulted into his life, the same little boy stood in front of Bruce with a determined set to his jaw; demanding Bruce let him out at night to fight crime.

"Dick," Bruce whispers, moving his hand up a little to sneakily check his temperature as Dick's eyelashes flutter open. "Chum, Alfred will murder us if we sleep all night in the cave."

"But'm comfy," Dick mumbles through a yawn and Bruce finds a grin slowly spreading on his lips.

"No you're not. Come on, up."

Dick groans as Bruce wraps his hand around his bicep to coax him to his feet. Soon enough, Bruce has Dick leaning against his side, arms wrapped around each other to support both of their weights. Together, they walk towards the stairs, dreading the walk up but knowing they can do it as long as they have each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the End Notes. I'm Jim, Jin's evil masculine identitcal twin. I have kidnapped Jin, and I will only release them if YOU- yes... You. No- not behind you- Yes! You! Specifically! I will only release them if you specifically leaves a comment. Thank you on Jin's behalf for reading! We will see you again tomorrow!


End file.
